


Broken Vows

by vintage1983



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Canon Compliant, Drunk Sex, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, First Kiss, Hogwarts Era, Lots of Angst, Outdoor Sex, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Slytherin, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 02:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintage1983/pseuds/vintage1983
Summary: Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy have a long history. Their lives have been entwined since school. At the height of the War, unresolved feelings come to the surface. Will Narcissa choose Severus, or remain loyal to Lucius? Vaguely canon compliant throughout the books.





	1. Pity and Want

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this on a memory stick. I wrote it 8 years ago and never published it. After a chat on Facebook about whether or not Narcissa and Severus could have worked out I decided to share this.  
It mostly fits into canon, though I know I have taken a bit of a liberty with ages etc. 
> 
> I would hugely appreciate your thoughts and comments on this. I am unsure whether to release the rest of it into the wild. There is plot and smut later, hence the rating. Please let me know what you think or the premise, the pairing, characters, anything you like!
> 
> Vin x

“I don’t know why we didn’t send him to Durmstrang, but you have insisted and now we are here,” Lucius hissed in a loud whisper.

“Hush your voice, spare me the embarrassment, please Lucius. We have been through this. I want Draco close to home, is that too much to ask, for our _only _son.”

“They don’t even teach the dark arts, Muggle Studies on the curriculum of all things. Why anyone would need or want to know that is utterly beyond my comprehension. Some initiative of Dumbledore’s no doubt. I may enquire if I can have Draco withdrawn from such nonsense.”

“And single him out against his peers? You will do no such thing.”

“They admit…admit you know what they admit, Cissy. It was criminal enough we had to mix with _them_. Is it so wrong of me to want better for Draco?”

His temper flared and his disgusted sneer became all the more pronounced.

“_We_ agreed, _you_ agreed,” she said through gritted teeth. “Hogwarts served you and I well enough.”

Severus Snape suddenly and silently appeared at the grand entrance to the school, disrupting their disagreement.

“Lucius,” he nodded.

Lucius’s demeanour changed in an instant.

“Severus, how good to see you, old friend. It’s been a long time. Too long. I trust you are well.”

“Exceptionally.”

“Still teaching I see, I don’t know how you have the patience for it, I really don’t. At least you are leading Slytherin the right way. We wouldn’t want the wrong sort slipping in, would we?”

Lucius’s tone was friendly, if condescending. It was evident he didn’t think highly of teaching as a profession. He was a man of ‘business’ whatever that meant. Money bred money.

“I have every faith in the sorting hat to do the right thing, Lucius.”

“I wouldn’t have Draco sorted anywhere else,” he replied with a smug certainty. “Can you imagine, a boy of mine, sorted into Gryffindor?” Lucius found the prospect so ridiculous he laughed in amusement at his own remark. Snape remained unmoved.

“Quite.”

It was often more expedient to simply agree with Lucius, though in this instance, there was little doubt his son would be sorted as he wished. Should the hat decree Draco Malfoy belonged in any other house, Lucius Malfoy would arrive at the school the following morning, burst into Dumbledore’s office and demand the error was rectified that very instant. Severus turned to Narcissa who had so far remained silent.

“Cissy,” he said softly.

“Severus,” she smiled warmly. “So very good to see you.”

“Radiant as ever.” Snape bowed his head.

“I fear my star is fading these days, Severus.”

“Not at all, it could never be so.”

Narcissa took his hand. Her fingers grazed over his, their eyes locked together.

“It is, so very nice to be appreciated. And here, so many, many memories.”

Her voice was distant and dreamy. Lucius was oblivious.

“It is indeed a school reunion, my dear friend, my darling wife, but we must register Draco and I have pressing business to attend to this afternoon. Shall we proceed?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“As you wish, Lucius.”

Snape and Narcissa glanced at each once more and they entered the school.

*****

**Hogwarts School, 1972**

Lucius reclined on a long, dark green velvet sofa in the Slytherin Common Room, his feet up and one knee bent. His tie hung down and his shirt sat untucked and open at the neck. Narcissa Black lay draped over him, her head resting on his chest as he idly poured his fingers through her hair. Malfoy held court, as he often did, the rest of the room hanging on his every word, first years consigned to sitting on the carpet as he took up the length of the extra-large seat, sprawling extravagantly.

“You know, Cissy, we are quite the pair, the envy of the school,” he purred.

“Hmmm,” she sighed back.

Severus Snape entered quietly, keen to make his way back to his room and conceal himself. His tormentors had caught him in the corridor. It was a regular occurrence. Most of the time he could tolerate it. Today Lily had observed it all. She had witnessed his humiliation and it was all too much to bear. The usual suspects had taunted and mocked him, firing a slickening spell at him and rolling with laughter as his textbooks had slithered from his hands and scattered to the floor.

He wished to go unnoticed. Lucius did not allow him to pass.

“Don’t you agree, Severus?”

Too consumed in his own thoughts and replaying events to himself he did not hear. Lily’s face, open mouthed, watching the scene haunted him. It had to be in front of her. She said and did nothing. She was complicit. It stung him deeply. He would tolerate their bullying, it wounded him fatally coming from her. They had drifted apart. James had been the wedge that had destroyed their friendship and torn apart his dreams. He had never told her, he never could or would, instead he pulled it within himself and focused on his studies. He found solace in his books and now even they were damaged and sticky.

“Severus,” Lucius shouted, demanding attention, bullish and commanding as ever.

He stopped and looked up.

“Don’t you agree?”

“Agree with what?”

Lucius huffed petulantly.

“That Cissy and I are the envy of the school.”

He snapped, punctuating each word.

“Of course.”

“Not quite the ladies’ man are you, Severus? Nose always stuck in a book. We should find you a nice witch. Any takers?”

There was a silence. Severus examined the toe of his shoe and clutched the gooey pile of books tightly to his chest, hoping nobody would notice their state and question him on the matter.

“I hear Lily Evans is very much entangled with the Potter boy. A pure blood himself, goes to show they’ll let anyone into Gryffindor.”

Lucius did not dislike Severus, yet it found it almost impossible not to poke at that particular sore point. He was largely ignorant to the feelings of others and so deeply entrenched in the belief that those without credentials and social standing couldn’t possibly evoke any affection in anyone he would associate with, he hardly registered Severus’s love for Lily.

“Oh, stop it, Lucius. Must you be so cruel?” Narcissa batted his fingers away from her head in an expression of displeasure.

Unlike Lucius she saw and understood the sadness in his eyes.

“Are you truly sweet on her, Severus? Surely not. A filthy Mudblood? You’re one of us. Well, you are halfway there at least. Far better you find one of your own kind. You are too good for the horrid little rat.”

While the rest of the room cheered and applauded his statement, Narcissa scowled at Lucius. Though she didn’t disagree completely with the sentiment, she couldn’t stand it when he tormented Severus. Lucius felt the disapproval in her eyes.

“Not like my pure-blood princess.”

Lucius crooned at her, pouting and demanding to be kissed. Narcissa relented and gave him a brief peck.

“Nothing like her at all,” Snape said and slunk away towards his room.

Narcissa watched him, rising to her feet she thumped Lucius in the arm.

“You’ve upset him now,” she snapped.

Lucius waved his hand casually.

“Oh, leave him, he’ll be perfectly alright. Let him sulk, he’ll soon get over her and come to his senses. Come, Quidditch, Rawenclaw blood to spill.”

Lucius was throwing on his robes and the rest of the room were following suit, piling towards the door to make their way to the match, already buoyant and chanting.

“Come, Cissy,” he beckoned her.

“I’ll be there in a moment. Go on, your followers will probably get lost on the way without you to guide them.”

She flapped him away and smiled, understanding completely that the way to manage Lucius was to appeal to his ego, always.

The room emptied and was silent.

All of Slytherin House had left for the Quidditch and she ventured cautiously towards the boys’ dormitories. She had been there before, with Lucius. He had bellowed and banished the others so they could be alone. Narcissa blushed at the memory. Now she tapped at the door gently, seeking someone else. There was no reply.

“Severus, it’s Cissy. Can I come in?”

Her gentle request was met with silence.

“Please, Severus. I just want to talk to you. The others are gone. It’s just me,” she coaxed.

“Leave me be, please. I don’t want to talk. Go to the match with the rest of them.”

“I’m coming in anyway. I do hope you are decent.”

Severus sat on the edge of his bed, the pile of books splayed out beside him where they had fallen when he had released his grip from them, his head in his hands.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said kindly, clearing a space to perch beside him. “What happened to your books?” she asked clearing the stickiness from her finger tips.

Severus sighed.

“_Them_. Again.”

“I am sorry.”

His bed creaked as she sat. Lucius’ bed did not. She knew Severus had the worst of everything in the dorm and he would never think to complain. Lucius, so demanding and entitled had his own bed shipped to the school. He had muttered that prisoners in Azkaban were not expected to sleep on such thin and foul mattresses and it was no way for a civilised wizard to exist. It was a mere detail, but Narcissa noted it.

“I’m sorry. About him. You know what he’s like, he means nothing by it, you are dear to him. Not that he admits it. He barely admits that I am dear to him, let alone anyone else, perhaps when he wants something he remembers to. I do wish he would tell me more often.”

Snape looked up. He smiled weakly.

“Perhaps he should.”

“Should what?”

“Tell you that you are dear to him. I would.”

There was an awkwardness. Narcissa’s brow furrowed and she studied his face.

“If I were him, I would tell you. He should.”

Now she smiled.

“You are sweet to me, but I think you are very sweet on her.”

“It is pointless,” he sighed.

Narcissa put a comforting arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He appreciated the contact and leant into it.

“He is right you know.” Narcissa intended to comfort him. Snape tensed. “Lily Evans is Muggle-born and so beneath you. There are so many wonderful pure blood…half blood,” she corrected herself, “Slytherin witches. Those like us simply do not belong with them. It is the way it should be. Believe me, Severus. _Andromeda _brought disgrace on my family and she is lost to us forever. I wouldn’t wish that on another soul.”

Narcissa rarely spoke her sister’s name. It hung on her lips in a mixture of shame and sadness. She knew better than to bring it up in front of Lucius. It had caused tension between them as he had angrily told her that he was tarnished by association. They had fought. Her exile from the family seemed to satisfy him and he dared not criticise in the presence of Bellatrix. She had snapped at him to shut his mouth on the subject and Lucius had complied without further argument. Like everyone else who encountered her, she made him feel nervous and uneasy. Cissy was the only one bold enough to stand up to her tirades.

Severus said nothing, he could hardly look her in the eye. Narcissa turned his head towards her, forcing him to face her.

“Look at me,” she insisted.

His gaze still fell downward.

“Severus look at me,” she persisted, her hand cupping his pale cheek.

Finally, he allowed his eyes to meet hers, dark hollows reddened at the edges.

“Oh, Severus waste no tears on her. I’ve told you, pure and Slytherin.”

“Like you?” he said in a throaty rasp.

“Exactly.”

He looked into her eyes. Narcissa Black was a beautiful young woman, tall and slender with wide blue eyes. Though not unlike Bellatrix, she had softer, finer features and a kinder face when she smiled. Though often sneering and just as haughty looking as Lucius, in the right company and at the right time she would lose her edge and air of privilege; she looked all the prettier for it. Now she looked at Severus that way, with warmth and affection. It was different to the way she looked at Lucius. For all his faults he made her stomach knot and she longed for him. He was attractive and she chased and admired his absolute confidence in his own superiority. When she looked at Lucius, she exaggerated her condescending smirk and turned her nose up a shade higher. Severus made her face soften.

“A pure blood, beautiful, Slytherin witch,” he almost echoed back.

“Yes.”

He leant closer.

“Like you,” he whispered, their lips almost touching.

There was a heavy pause, the silence only broken by laboured breath, though his was more pronounced, Narcissa huffed harder through her nose.

“Come here,” she finally breathed, closing her eyes.

Her lips brushed over his, thin and dry. It was chaste, the finest of contacts. Narcissa pulled back, opening her eyes to find Severus’s still closed, his lips still puckered. She sighed.

“Is that your first kiss?”

He opened his eyes, embarrassment flushed his cheeks, yet he nodded and admitted it to her.

“I can hardly leave it at that, can I?”

Severus wondered if it was an act of pity and he should decline it. He could not. Instead he licked his lips expectantly and swallowed nervously. Narcissa moved towards him again, tilting her head until her plump red lips met his. Her tongue pressed its way between them, urging his lips to part. Uncertain, he matched her movements until his tongue probed into her mouth and ran over hers. He revelled in the soft, wet sensation of her mouth on his. Her arms had slipped around his neck and she stroked softly at his back. His arms were frozen in mid-air, lost and immobile. Her fingers raked into his hair and it somehow released them to wind around her body. Severus inhaled the extravagant, perfumed, feminine scent of her, and absorbed the soft warmth of her body pressed into his. It stirred a deep, primal need within him, and he tried to force the thought away, fearing she would sense it, or worse _feel _it and furiously shove him away in disgust or laugh at him. Narcissa did feel it and did neither of those things but pressed herself tighter against him.

Severus wanted it to last forever. It was the longest time in his memory he had not thought about Lily. She came to him now. He had watched her coil into James Potter’s arms and kiss him endlessly. He had wondered how it felt, what she tasted of. Narcissa tasted of sweets from Bertie Bott’s with a hint of the red wine Lucius hid under his bed; youthful wickedness. Guilt struck him. It felt like a betrayal. He knew it wasn’t, deep down he knew Lily never gave him a second thought as she kissed James. He thought of Lucius. What would he say if he discovered them? It was too much and Severus pulled away, untangling his arms and bringing it to an abrupt end.

Narcissa breathed heavily, her eyes, now glossy and twinkling, opened slowly. Severus’s instinct was to look away, she held his face and did not allow it, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you.”

Snape looked at her in surprise.

“I should thank you.”

“Never. It was lovely. I hardly believe it was your first.”

“It was alright?”

“Better than alright. I promise. I must go. The Quidditch will have started and you know how Lucius gets when anyone is late. He’ll be wondering quite where I have gotten to. Are you coming?”

He considered it for a moment.

“No, I have work that needs my attention,” his eye was drawn to the pile of books on the bed.

She squeezed his hand tightly.

“I know you don’t believe me, but you know you are quite a catch. Some witch will be very lucky to have you.”

Narcissa had risen to her feet, still gripping his fingers in hers. He gave her a reluctant half-smile.

“Do you believe me?”

“No,” he said bluntly.

“I thought not, perhaps one day you will. I must go. You know you really should get out to these things, socialise a little more. How else will you meet someone?”

“Another time, perhaps.”

He had no idea how he would look Lucius in the eye. There was no doubt it was a betrayal and he would see it as such. Perhaps he should have refused. It was done now.

Their fingers slipped away as she stepped back towards the door, lingering for as long as possible, until their tips lost each other to the air. She stopped in the doorway. He looked up hopefully at her.

“Severus,” she said.

“Yes, Cissy.”

“Best not mention this to Lucius. Our little secret.”

Narcissa winked and smiled.

“Of course not,” he swallowed.

Severus breathed out deeply once he was sure she was gone. His hand shot to his lips, finding the faint traces of her red lipstick left behind and marking him a guilty man. He wiped it away on his sleeve and collapsed back on the bed.

*****

Lucius huffed and hurried proceedings, itching to get away.

“You know you have left Draco’s registration rather late in the day,” Snape drawled.

“There was some…debate as to where he would be school.”

Narcissa’s eyebrow shot up.

“Of course, Hogwarts won out,” Lucius added as though it had been his wish all along.

“A signature here, here and here, and we are done.”

Lucius took a quill and began signing hurriedly.

“Severus,” Narcissa whispered, drawing her hand down his arm.

“Yes, Cissy?”

She took his hand and tucked it between hers. Her eyes wide and pleading.

“Take care of him for me.”

There was a desperation in her voice, a frightened and protective mother worrying for her only child.

“I will, of course. I will keep an eye on him.”

“There is much of his father in him. I fear something of his Aunt besides that.”

Severus nodded. He understood.

“You have my word.”

“I trust and believe you. You cannot know how precious he is to me. My boy, my darling boy.”

“I cannot,” he sighed, “but I will be vigilant. For you.”

They looked at one another. It had been a long time. Narcissa did not doubt him for a second.

“All done, come along, Cissy,” Lucius said as he was already dragging her away.

“Good to see you again, Severus,” he said as an after thought and gave his hand a quick and cursory shake.

Narcissa Malfoy looked back over her shoulder as she left until Severus Snape had faded from view.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty conversation and some sexual content in this one.
> 
> Thank you for reading and your interest in this story. This one took a bit of editing, so sorry if there are any errors still lurking in there!
> 
> Please, leave me your thoughts, this one has been very slow cooked and almost didn't see the light of day!

**September 1991**

Lucius set down his after-dinner brandy and looked thoughtfully at his wife.

“Cissy, you are so distant, what is wrong?”

Sighing deeply, her head turned away from him, as tears welled, and the dam threatened to burst. She huffed again, frustrated he did not just know and understand her feelings without asking.

“Cissy please, your mood concerns me.”

Lucius pleaded. She had barely said a word for days, ate little and seemed to pace the house at all hours of the night. She would stop at Draco’s room and look in at his empty bed. It made her feel hollow inside.

“I miss him,” she finally puffed out.

“I know you do. I always knew it would be so, but we must allow him to grow up. His school days will be the finest of his young life. They will shape him as a wizard. You want the boy to grow to be strong and capable, don’t you?”

“Yes, it’s just…there are mutterings, rumours. Something is coming Lucius. I feel it. Potter is…”

He cut her off, his voice raised slightly. “Do not mention that name, that boy, in this house. Be patient. Our time will come again. I am sure of it.”

“That is my concern, Lucius. Draco is there, alone, at the eye of the storm.”

“Draco will manage, Cissy. You have always babied him and mollycoddled him so. I can’t say I have always approved, but I have allowed it. Let him become a man and enjoy his education. I’m sure Severus will take a keen interest in him and keep a particular eye out for him.”

Narcissa was deep in thought, her mind wandering to another place and time; she thought of Severus Snape.

“Cissy?” Lucius pressed her.

“Yes, I am sure he will.”

Lucius was unconvinced she believed him or was the slightest bit comforted by his words.

“Come,” he said, rising to his feet, “come here.” He extended a hand to her. She looked up at him, glassy eyed and uncertain. Lucius smiled and pouted, and she relented, allowing his fingers to coil around hers and pull her up into his arms. Lucius held her to his chest and stroked lovingly at her hair.

“There now, don’t cry, Cissy. Your flaw is you are simply too good a wife and mother. It is hardly a crime to feel shame at.”

Narcissa sniffed and clung to him. She chased away thoughts of distant days and forced herself to exist only in the here and now. Eventually she gazed up into his pale blue eyes and he brushed stray hair away from her face and dabbed a single tear drop from her cheek.

“Better?”

She nodded slowly. Lucius drew his thumb over her lip, and she swallowed. It had been a long time since they had been intimate. In truth she missed it. She missed him. Narcissa leant in and they kissed. It was soft and controlled but warmed as her lips parted and her mouth opened up to him. Their tongues met and slid over one another. Lucius pressed into her. She felt him, hard and eager. A pang of want shot through her and she pushed back against him. Narcissa’s breathing was sharp and ragged when he broke away.

“Come, my wife,” he said, leading her up to the bedroom.

It was a familiar and rehearsed routine. They undressed themselves and he drew back the heavy covers, beckoning her and sliding into a familiar bed. Kissing again, his fingers found her, not unmoved, but he raised them to his lips to dampen them before returning them between her legs. Lucius had touched her a hundred times. He was not without skill and she grew wetter, panting softly and angling herself to a more satisfying position, bending her knee and raising her hips until his thumb nudged against the sensitive bud of nerves that made her ache and moan. Two fingers worked in and out of her and she gripped him within her walls, urging him to thrust deeper and faster in and out. Narcissa liked it, she adored to be touched.

Lucius stopped suddenly.

“I need to be in you, I need to,” he growled, his own want cancelling out his attention to hers.

Moving on top of her, she said nothing and parted her thighs to welcome him between them. He hissed through his teeth as he found the damp heat of her with the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Cissy, my Cissy, my Cissy,” he murmured as he pushed into her.

She whined at the feeling of fullness and the delicious stretch and wrapped her legs around him, trying to direct the pace. His hips rocked and he made slow but determined strokes. She inhaled deeply. His pace quickened, too soon, too demanding and in need of his own release. She knew it, his urgent, rapid thrusts into her drew out low grunts. He thrust again, harder, almost bruising her. Narcissa cried out, wanting more. His strokes grew shallow and desperate. She understood it wouldn’t be long and dipped her own forefinger down to circle and rub her clit to ensure she found her own pleasure.

She tried not to think it. She tried to force the image of someone else away. Still it came. The opposite of her husband, dark hair and almost black eyes that bored into her soul. His name rang silently in her mind and she bit her own tongue not to prevent her from calling it out, as she had done years before. She forced her eyes open and made herself focus on Lucius. The image lingered and then faded as he found the sweet spot within her that forced her to release a throaty cry. 

Lucius came, emptying into her with a sharp jerk of his hips, his body tensing and stiffening. She worked her clit until she came with a soft whimper. He was still on top of her, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“Perfection,” he whispered and rolled away, flopping down on the other side of the bed spent, the rise and fall of his chest still pronounced.

“Hmm,” she said idly, neither agreeing nor challenging his assertion.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said as he turned over and made himself comfortable.

Narcissa stared up at the ceiling.

She hadn’t thought about Severus like that for a long time. She wanted to believe it was seeing him again that had brought memories flooding to the surface and placed him at the front of her mind. She wanted to convince herself it was so. Guilt stabbed at her fiercely and painfully and she stroked her fingers down Lucius’s back. He said nothing but shuffled and groaned a little.

“Lucius?”

“Mm,” he mumbled.

“I was thinking about Draco. Perhaps we could visit him. I’m sure we could arrange to take him into Hogsmeade at the weekend and buy him anything he needs, make sure he is well and take him for lunch. We could stay overnight perhaps, make a trip of it.”

There was silence.

“What do you think?”

Still there was no response. Lucius was already fast asleep.

XXXX

Midway through the winter term, an owl arrived at Hogwarts, addressed to Severus Snape. He didn’t remember the last time he had received any personal correspondence, if he indeed he ever had at all in his time at the school. Snape’s life was very much within the walls of that place. He opened it with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment.

_Severus,_

_I write to you not only as a mother, or a parent, but as a dear, dear old friend. I barely sleep for worrying about Draco. I hear rumblings, though I know nothing precise. The presence of the Potter boy at the school, sitting in Draco’s classes alarms me greatly. If anything were to happen, he is so close to the very centre of it, my precious only son. If you know, you must tell me what Lucius cannot or will not. Is he well? Does he eat properly? Does he sleep? Has he made friends, suitable ones? I can’t abide the thought he is mixing with the wrong sort. I hope we raised him to make the right sort of choices. _

_It was good to see you; it had been so long. It reminded me of the old days, of regret and shame and things I had believed were long since dead. I rely and depend on you now. I feel without hesitation I can place my faith in you._

_Cissy. _

Severus sighed. The past should stay where it was and her allusions to it stirred up unwanted memories. He replied. Curtly, formally and professionally.

_Mrs. Malfoy,_

_Please find enclosed a recent school report relating to your son, Draco Malfoy._

_Yours sincerely._

_Professor S. Snape_

_Head of Slytherin House_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

A list of his misdemeanours and his current marks in each subject accompanied the note. There was nothing more. It was as impersonal as a response to a parent he had never met.

Narcissa was livid as she read it. Lucius had dismissed the idea of visiting Hogsmeade, arguing that Draco should gain some independence and survive a school term without her and that he was far too busy to dedicate so much time to an unnecessary trip to Scotland. He had insisted that Christmas would come soon enough, and he was certain time was passing far more quickly for Draco than it was for her. Her mind was made up. She sent another owl to Severus insisting he meet her at the at the Hog’s Head at 2.30pm the following Saturday. It was not framed as a request.

Narcissa apparated at the edge of the village, half an hour before she was due to meet Severus. Autumn had stripped the trees of their leaves and the sky was a dull, watery grey. She hadn’t been there since her own school days. It reminded her of lazy afternoons and youthful exuberance. Purposefully making her way to the pub, she found it much as she remembered it, still dark and dingy, but quiet and private enough to speak of anything. Many secrets and lies had been spoken in hushed tones within it’s old walls over the years. She had surreptitiously sipped wine there with Lucius and furtively kissed in the corner booth. Guilt circled her again. It forced her to remind herself that she was there: simply to demand satisfying answers about Draco’s wellbeing. Taking a large glug of Fire Whisky, she knew that wasn’t entirely the truth.

A familiar dark figure appeared in the doorway, precisely on time.

“Severus,” she said with a hint of eagerness and surprise in her voice. Narcissa smoothed down her dress and lowered her gaze, trying to regain control and limit her own response.

“Cissy,” he replied, monotone and with an almost pained, serious look on his face.

Snape ordered a drink and another for Narcissa and seated himself in the booth. The corner she had spent so many evenings with Lucius called to her. She ignored it and sat on the opposite side of the room.

“This is…most irregular, Narcissa. It is an uncommon request for a parent to meet with teachers within the first term, even more so outside of school time and grounds. I sent a comprehensive update on Draco’s progress. I don’t know what more you require from me. Perhaps you, or Lucius should meet with Dumbledore to discuss your concerns.” He swirled the drink around in the glass and did not look at her as he spoke. There was an awkward uneasiness about him.

“Dumbledore,” she scoffed, “as if I can rely on him.”

“I shouldn’t be here, Cissy.”

“But you are here.”

Snape slowly looked up and their eyes met for the first time.

“It would appear so.”

“I need answers, Severus. I don’t know who else to turn to or trust. Is it true?”

“Is what true?” he answered, still expressionless, but deep down anticipating what was to come.

“You know what, Lucius will tell me nothing, he claims not to know.”

Snape stared back at her hard. He gave nothing away.

“Severus, please,” she hissed. “Does,” she stopped her eyes flitting around the bar, deserted but for them, her tongue nervously flicking over her lips. “Does _he_…return?”

Snape raised an eyebrow and pressed her.

“Severus, does the…” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “Dark Lord, return?”

“I know no more than you, Cissy. The fact that you are questioning me about it all should indicate there are already whisperings. I am aware of the rumours. What does Lucius say on the matter?”

“Nothing, but he keeps strange hours, out at all times of the night. He is secretive and nervous. Something is coming. I believe it, I know it. _He_ _is_ returning.” She looked around again furtively.

“And does that displease you?”

“I am loyal. I am and always have been loyal, but _here _in the school. The school _my_ son attends. Perhaps I should have let Lucius have his way and sent him away to Durmstrang, out of the country and safe, away from what is to come. I have no doubt it will come here. The boy, the boy who…lived is within those walls. He will come for him and Draco will be drawn into it; I sense it and know it. Tell me the truth, Severus, so I can prepare for it.”

Her eyes pleaded and begged. Snape swallowed and ground his teeth; his hand shot to his collar. He returned her gaze. Narcissa reached across the table and covered his hand with hers, squeezing his fingers tightly, as both of their hands wrapped around the tumbler.

“Please.”

Severus closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before he spoke.

“He is returning,” he said softly.

Narcissa fought tears and gripped harder on his hand.

“My boy, oh my boy, he’s only a child, not a Death Eater. Please, Severus, I am not disloyal, I am not, know and understand that. Please do not imagine me a traitor to the cause, but my son.”

Fear and waves of grief washed over her. Severus was not oblivious or cold to it. Her tears had always weakened him. He moved to the other side of the table and slid onto the bench beside her. Narcissa rested her head against his shoulder, slowly and uncertainly. Snape stiffened, but allowed it, eventually winding his arm around her and holding her there.

“Things are different now; Draco has changed everything. He is my child and he will be marked, expected to, to…”

“He is safe…for now. And you have my word I will watch over him. His return will take time, it will not be immediate. The boy has time to grow and become strong.”

It was little comfort. Narcissa sobbed and shook against Severus, tears soaking his sleeve.

“I should have chosen you. All those years ago, it should have been you, but you didn’t want me, did you? Not really. It was never me. Even now your love belongs to a ghost. Which will you choose, if it comes down to it, Severus? Her son, or mine?” There was a bitterness and resentment in her voice.

Severus shuffled and withdrew.

“He loves you. Go home, Narcissa. Be with your husband, care for your son.”

She sighed and straightened herself up, dabbing her eyes with a small, lace-edged handkerchief. She softened and took his hand again.

“I never know what you are thinking. Lucius is so…obvious. I only need look at him to know he is displeased, or troubled, or hiding something. Even after all these years, you remain a mystery to me.”

He huffed. A wry smile fought at the corner of his mouth.

“I have never understood you either. The perils of two Occulemens together.”

“You are alone. I hate to think of you alone.”

“I choose to be alone. Solitude is one of the few pleasures life affords me. Would you deny me it?”

“Never,” she said, sniffing and managing a weak, half smile.

He pulled his hand away and stood up. She took the last mouthful of her drink and rose to meet him. 

“He’s just a boy, Severus. No matter how much he protests he is just a child. I send him sweets, every day without fail.”

“You spoil, the boy, Cissy.”

“He is mine to spoil.”

Snape nodded. Both were unsure how to part from each other. He offered her his hand. Narcissa looked down at it and frowned.

“Are we at shaking hands, really? You an I?”

“I suppose not,” he said stiffly.

“Come here.”

She hugged him tightly and close, curling into him naturally. Severus was slow to move, but self-consciously took her into his arms and held her there, his palm eventually flattening against her back and finding the warmth of her body radiating, even through a heavy cloak.

He inhaled the scent of her, still as rich and heady as the first time he had held her in the Slytherin boys’ dorm at Hogwarts, unmistakably her. He wound the ends of her hair between his finger and thumb and she sighed into his chest. It lasted barely a minute. It felt like forever.

Narcissa looked at him, her eyes on his lips, want swelled and she ran her tongue over her own. Their eyes locked together. He felt it and could not deny it but would not act on it and broke away.

They stood indecisively for a moment.

“I must return to the school. I have much to do.”

“I understand. Thank you, Severus. Thank you for your time, for seeing me, for taking care of him. I am sorry I can’t help but fret.”

He bowed his head. “Give my regards to Lucius.”

“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing, “it would be best if we kept this meeting between ourselves.”

“I understand.”

Narcissa put on her gloves and followed Severus out into the street. The sky had darkened, and the first drops of rain began to splash against the cobbles.

“Goodbye, Severus.”

She smiled sadly.

“Narcissa,” he said and turned, making his way down the street. She watched him go for a second and disapparated with a small pop. Snape did not look back. He knew that sound and knew she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your lovely reviews, leave your comments it you can, I love reading your thoughts!
> 
> Sorry, angst, angst, smut and angst. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Severus Snape returned to his private rooms at Hogwarts. They consisted of a single room and adjoining bathroom. They were plain, stark and simple, dimly lit and bare. As a senior teacher he was more than eligible for something more substantial and grander, yet he declined it. He deemed the space was adequate for his needs.

A large, stone fireplace dominated the small room. Above it hung a painting of a slender, dark haired witch gleefully riding a broom and dressed for Quidditch. The only other personal item in the room was a solitary photograph of a young Snape and a vibrant young witch with pale skin and red hair. Sometimes it lay face down, today she studied him with inquisitive eyes.

He sighed, glancing between the two images and taking a seat in the solitary and worn, dark green, leather wing-backed chair in front of the fire. A decanter and single tumbler waited patiently on a narrow side table. Inhaling deeply, he poured himself a drink. A woman haunted his thoughts. There was always a woman tormenting his soul, for as long as he remembered it had been that way. This time it was not the spectre of the past who observed him curiously from the image beside him. Unable to tolerate it, he gently turned the photograph over and set it, face down onto the table. The ghost who haunted him now was very much alive, she had just sat opposite him in the Hog’s Head. He had held her close and felt the warmth of her and felt her very much beating heart thudding against his chest.

Guilt dug and clawed at him; Lucius, however arrogant and conceited, was one of the few he could call a friend. Lily scowled angrily at him in his mind. It bothered him. Though Snape was no fool, he understood his feelings for Lily were unrequited and always had been. He knew she was gone. Instead of a jealous lover, he imagined her disappointment that he had taken another man’s wife into his arms and, though a long time ago now, into his bed. He felt her blistering outrage that it was not beyond the realms of possibility that he would do so again, that he thought of it and the closeness of her body had stirred feelings within him he had not felt for years. Narcissa’s face, her dark red lips, her wide eyes and alabaster skin were thoughts he could not rid himself of. The scent of her hung on his nostrils. How he had forgotten. It was so long ago.

Cissy had always weighed heavily. Unlike Lily, his relentless pursuit of the Dark Arts as a young man had never disappointed, nor unnerved her. She viewed it sometimes with fascination, when the idea suited her less, she merely displayed disinterest in his unusual hobbies. At times it had excited her. Narcissa’s rejection of him had never been complete or final. It ended because life dictated it must and he had neither hoped nor expected her to do anything but remain with Lucius. Briefly, in the foolish flush of youth he had wondered if they could be more. It faded quickly.

Time passed after they left school, though they parted as friends, as school mates often do, they went their separate ways and drifted apart. The final day of the last term always brought heartfelt and genuine pledges to remain friends forever and never lose touch. Those promises are so often not kept, despite the best of intentions. It had been almost two years since that day. Now almost twenty, he had rounded the corner, leaving Knockturn Alley and walked straight into Narcissa Black. It was sudden, out of the blue and unexpected.

“Severus,” she said with a warm and real smile.

“Narcissa,” he replied, far more contained and sombre, though he was not displeased. He had worked hard to cultivate an unimpressed persona. Snape, never keen to express his feelings openly had taken to it with ease.

“It’s been an age, forever. I don’t suppose I have seen you since…since school. How has it been so long? I feel shame I have let so much time drift by, but it has flown by. Are you well? How are you occupying yourself? I must know everything.”

“I have done nothing of note, I assure you.”

He clung on tightly to a box from Borgin and Burkes. She eyed it with interest.

“Still mesmerised by the Dark Arts I see, Severus. I think I am rather glad to see you haven’t changed.”

She craned her neck to inspect what he was carrying. He clutched it tighter to his chest.

“We should catch up. Properly. Come and have a drink with me.”

Narcissa often got her own way. He went innocently and honestly, grudgingly agreeing. The contents of the box, a collection of highly illegal magical creature venoms pulled at him to return home. He wavered.

“Come on,” she urged, “just a quick one. I’m so thrilled to see you. It may be another two years before I get the chance again.”

He nodded. Narcissa had triumphed.

Consumed in the pursuit of knowledge and immersed in the occult, Snape rarely socialised. He sat down awkwardly at a table in The Leaky Cauldron. Narcissa ordered wine. Expensive wine. She snatched and grabbed his hand, knowing his instinct would be to shy away.

“So, how are you?”

“Well, busy.”

“Hmm. I heard the Evans girl is to wed Potter shortly.”

He knew it; he had known it for months. Still hearing the words aloud stung and stabbed at him. Severus had accepted it. It occurred to him he had never heard anyone speak of it or had to acknowledge it to another soul. He didn’t associate with anyone who would realise it was of any consequence to him.

“I had not heard.” He lied, poker-faced, but she knew better.

“Does it concern you?”

“Not at all. I have more pressing matters to take up my time, and she is not the type of witch I should associate with.”

“No, she most certainly isn’t. I am relieved you have come to your senses. She is beneath you. Beneath contempt. Things are changing. Lord Voldemort speaks absolute sense. There are those like us and there are those…well, like her and it is obvious and clear to anyone with any common sense just who is fit to wield the power, but enough politics let’s have another. Shall we?”

There was a mischievous streak in Narcissa Black in those days. Snape agreed and found himself drinking and drowning out sadness until Lily was a blurred and hazy memory. Cissy leant closer, sitting in front of him, her knees brushing against his and propped up on her elbows. Her eyes had a glossy sheen and twinkled at him in the firelight. The usually precise and almost staccato rhythm of her words began to lilt and blur into each other, as she took another drink and drained the glass.

“Severus Snape,” she pointed, jabbing her index finger into his thigh. “I am so very, very, very…drunk.” She stabbed again. “And my sister,” she wrinkled her nose. “My dear, dear sister, angry and ill-tempered witch that she is may cast a hundred Cruciatus curses at me for not turning up to meet her. I am exceedingly late. Too late to even bother now.”

“I think I would not dare incur the wrath of Bellatrix. You are far braver than I, Cissy.”

He hiccupped and smirked.

“Pfft. Pish. I care not. Cantankerous witch that she is does not frighten me, Severus. Not one bit.”

Narcissa snorted and laughed. “I am the only one who doesn’t fear her. I always thought her darkness may suit you, Severus. I apologise. I am so very wrong. You have done nothing so terrible as to deserve her ill-mannered, unpredictable, vicious, spiteful… Poor old Rodolphus. Poor soul. I feel for him. I really do.”

She looked up at him. Their eyes met.

“You are too sweet for her.”

“I am anything but sweet.”

“Then she is too sour for you. As sour as the sourest…sour thing. Sour thing?”

“Lemon,” he offered.

“Yes those. As sour as the sourest lemon that sweet ever tasted. But don’t taste her. Not my sister.”

Narcissa snorted and laughed again. Severus found himself doing the same.

“No, no, no, no but…” she announced with drunken determination. “Do you remember at school when I,” she gestured to herself, “was your first kiss.”

Severus swallowed. The air grew thick.

“I remember.”

She watched him and he returned her gaze, glancing from her eyes to lips. The memory flooded back like it had happened moments ago. Her tongue flicked over her lipstick, she sucked on her cheeks and pushed out a pout. Severus stirred in his seat. The rise and fall of her chest grew more pronounced and visible. He could not hide that his breathing had mirrored hers.

“I remember too. And do you know what?” Her tone was low and husky. “I liked it.”

She paused intentionally and knowingly, observing his response. He breathed in deeply, his eyes closing as he ground down his back teeth.

“I liked it,” she purred. “I still think of it. Do you?”

“Yes,” he rasped.

He inhaled sharply. She let out a soft but victorious pant.

“It still…stirs me, Severus. I haven’t forgotten. The feel of you. The soft, warm sensation of your tongue on mine. I miss it. I crave it. Do you crave it, Severus?”

“Yes,” he said, forcing the word out as if it caused him physical pain.

He broke.

Eager fingers clawed and fumbled at one another as he pulled her close and made her wait. He breath rasped and caught, her lips already parting and want beginning to knot and coil in her belly. His lips found hers, in a hot and messy kiss. His tongue greedily probed her mouth. Alcohol had stoked the fire and now it burned brighter and harder, loosening inhibitions as their hungry mouths threatened to devour the other. Narcissa moaned wantonly, guiding his hand under her dress. At first, he stiffened and fought against it.

She pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t you want to, Severus?”

“I want to. But we shouldn’t.”

“We shouldn’t, of course we shouldn’t, but I want it. I need it. Please.” She tugged at his hand again. He allowed it, his fingers ghosting a trail up her inner thigh, finding the heat between her legs and her underwear already dampened. She cried softly into his mouth.

“Not here, Cissy, not here like this.”

“Then where? You can’t come home with me, but I need it. Now.”

“Come.”

He drew himself to his feet and took her hand.

Narcissa found herself pressed up against the cold, hard stone in the alleyway. He had intended to take her home. Lust had overtaken him, and he had pulled her into the darkness and seclusion of the abandoned side street. The daylight had long since faded and he found himself pushing her up against the wall covered by the darkness and good fortune nobody was passing by. His mouth found hers again, his tongue bidding her to open for him and her wrists gripped tightly pinning and holding her. His tongue worked in and out and his hips matched the rhythm. Narcissa’s legs parted and she clung on, raising her leg and wrapping it around him, pushing, urging him to thrust against her. She could feel him, hard and ready. She wailed desperately as he licked and nipped at the delicate, pale flesh of her neck.

“Please, please,” she begged him for touch.

He understood and released a wrist, lifting and bunching up her skirt finding his way back to the lace edge of her underwear. He teased at it. She wriggled and adjusted, trying to force his hand to where she wanted it. He snatched it away and she whined for its return. Severus traced his fingers lightly over her, through the sodden fabric, his mouth still at her neck. He felt her nails digging into his shoulder blades. He could stand it no more and dragged her panties to the side, finding her soaked slit and working two fingers inside her. Narcissa cried out wildly, past caring if she was seen or heard. His fingers twisted and slid in and out, feeling her gripping him within her walls as she bucked against his hand. Between sloppy, urgent kisses, she begged for more.

“Please…uh…I want… I need.”

Again, he understood her need, withdrawing his fingers only to free himself of his robes and slam her back hard against the wall. Taking fistfuls of her skirt she pulled it up, and he scooped one leg up and pressed hard against her.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I want you.”

“Again.”

“Please. I want you. Now, please. In me. Please.”

He complied, burying himself deep inside her with a hard thrust. His hips worked rapidly as he took her roughly in the dark, filthy alley. She curled into him, powerless, but willing him for more.

“Yes, harder, please, yes. Want. Need. Yes.”

Her murmuring became less and less coherent. The tight knot began to unwind within her, only to snap back and tighten again. He felt good, deliciously thick and hard and she adored the feeling of being stretched. The friction of the rough surface behind her scratched and burned at her back, but she adored it.

He drove into her hard and deep, his fingers winding into her hair, yanking her head back, gripping tightly and possessively as he fucked her.

She felt it, warmth winding out from her core, the heat and the tingling sensation as each wave felt longer and more consuming than the last until it came, surging through her body. It pulled the air from her lungs as she pulsed and throbbed around him and he teased out every last drop, still relentlessly thrusting into her and seeking his own pleasure. Narcissa still hung on tightly to him, her body relaxed and like liquid, but she wanted him to feel as she did.

“Come for me, come Severus. I want you to come.”

He grunted, his body stiffening as he drew close.

“Come into me. I want to feel it, feel me covered in you.”

It was enough. He spilled into her with a deep guttural sound that fought its way out through gritted teeth.

They remained still for a moment, his eyes closed as he panted and recovered his breath. Finally, he slipped out of her. They said nothing. He could not bring himself to look her in the eye. Now it was done, he was uncertain what she would do or say. He felt her hand on his cheek and cautiously opened his eyes to face her. Narcissa smirked.

“Oh my,” she said wickedly.

“I don’t…”

“Shh,” she interrupted, forbidding him from spoiling the moment with thoughts of reality and consequences. She kissed him softly on his lips.

“Take me home,” she whispered.

“Perhaps we should walk, the night air may take the flush away from your cheeks.”

“You put it there.”

A smirk threatened. He repressed it.

“Take me home,” she said again, more determined and staring hard into his dark eyes.

He nodded slowly.

“I hope your sister isn’t in.”

“I didn’t mean my house.”

He took her hand and they silently walked in the direction of his pokey flat.

Severus awoke to find Narcissa almost dressed and creeping amongst the untidy clutter of potion ingredients, dark objects, notebooks and quills seeking a missing shoe.

“Good morning,” he drawled, suddenly embarrassed at the state of the place. Images of the night before flashed thorough his mind. They had frantically shed their clothes; she had silenced him as he tried to excuse the condition of his home. The picture of her straddling him, raising and lowering herself, throwing her head back and moaning for his cock both excited and mortified him.

“Good morning to you, but I must find my shoe and go home.”

She peered under the desk.

Severus became painfully aware that he was naked and laid in the crumpled single mattress in the corner of the room.

“Ah, there it is,” she said triumphantly, holding aloft the stray shoe and scrambling to put it on. She smiled, pulling on her cloak.

“Will I see you again?”

There was a faint trace of hope amongst the awkwardness.

“Of course, you will, silly. Very soon.”

She cocked her head at him, puzzled and bewildered at his question.

“Hasn’t it arrived yet? It should have. I had the house elves deliver them days ago. I will kick the filthy beasts if they have forgotten or lost yours.”

“Lost what?”

“Your invitation.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. He recalled a decorative envelope that was lost somewhere amongst the chaos. He hoped it was to a party of some sort. Deep down he knew what she was about to say.

“To my wedding, of course. I am to marry Lucius in the Spring.”

Snape felt it. Though he knew it was coming, the casual mention she gave of it only made it worse. As if insensitivity had suddenly registered with her, she pressed her lips together guiltily. She tiptoed around the mess on the floor and bent down, kissing him softly on the forehead.

“Oh, my dear Severus. I know. I won’t say it. I can’t regret it and I won’t, but you do understand. I hope you do. It was wonderful. Truly and really it was wonderful, but I must go…I.”

He looked up at her and smiled glumly. He understood and didn’t resent her for it. Narcissa stopped at the door and looked back at him.

“Severus.”

He looked back at her, still optimistic.

“I can…I can trust you, can’t I?”

“Implicitly.”

She smiled.

“Thank you. For everything. All of it.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Narcissa.”

The door was already closing softly behind her.

He placed his head in his hands, his palms covering his face and screamed into them silently.

XXXX

Severus watched Narcissa Black become Narcissa Malfoy. He observed silently as her hands were tied reverently to Lucius’ with magical rope, binding them together as husband and wife. He swallowed shame but forced himself to watch. He thought about another ceremony. Still he imagined Lily being joined irrevocably to James Potter.

Conflicted and guilty, he made his excuses and left as quickly as convention and politeness would allow. A voice in the corridor stopped him.

“Severus.”

It was Narcissa.

“Are you leaving already?”

“I have much to do, I must return to my work.”

She had caught up to him and reached out to touch him. He recoiled as if burnt.

“Please stay. Enjoy the party.”

He frowned.

“Is it because of me, because of what we did?”

He looked down at the floor.

“I…I…”

She stumbled for words and took his hand, forcing him to look at her.

“Don’t, Cissy. There is no need to say anything.”

There was a loud silence.

“You should get back to your husband. Lucius will wonder where you have gone.”

“Yes. I suppose I should.”

She pulled away, reminded where a bride should be on her wedding day, but still she stopped and turned once more.

“I have done the right thing haven’t I?”

“Only you can know that, but I do not doubt it.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“I just have wondered if perhaps…”

The look in his eyes stopped her saying any more. It was cold and piercing.

“You know my heart is not free to be given, Narcissa. It belongs to another.”

She swallowed.

“I know. I have always known that; I must get back to the party. I will be missed.”

“You will be.”

He turned and made his way out without another sound. She watched him for a moment and finally turned to return to her guests. He heard the sound of her heels clicking on the polished floor and allowed himself to glance back, fleetingly over his shoulder.

He let out a deep sigh and heard the sound of music and laughter as the door into the Great Hall opened and she slipped back into the celebration.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued support. I know there are some Snissy shippers out there and I hope you enjoy this.   
There is much angsty conversation...  
As always, I love your comments and thoughts on the story so far, or what may come next!  
Enjoy!  
Vin x

Narcissa remembered the first time, in Severus Snape’s grubby, dishevelled bedsit in Knockturn Alley. It was an act of youthful hedonism she looked back on fondly. The second time was an act of sheer desperation. Seeing him again, him falling into her life suddenly, had thrown up long-forgotten doubts and questions. Now, as she had been then, she was unsure and lost in a tangled web of lies and betrayal. Protecting Draco at all costs was everything and she admonished herself for allowing distractions to hamper her efforts. Still, uncertain times loomed. Once again, upheaval and conflict were coming into her world. Once again, Lucius was absent and she remained at home alone at the Manor, awaiting news and left to wonder. Her attention turned to a similar time, more than twelve years ago.

War had arrived. Dark clouds filled the horizon and allegiances had already been declared. Lucius sided with the message of purity and none had been so utterly consumed and stood loyal to the cause than her own sister, Bellatrix. Narcissa did not feel dissent but thought it right and good that her own superiority should be celebrated, and the wizarding world would be a better place once cleansed of the undesirables that blighted it and demanded equality. There was no doubt that Narcissa was a believer. Still, it troubled her that her own husband would be at the frontline. It had placed a strain on their marriage.

She had looked at Severus on that day and questioned if she had made the right choice, but his sharp and brutal rejection had driven her to cling tightly to Lucius. They had been happy. The work of the Dark Lord pulled him from her arms. Now he was constantly absent, furtive and secretive, reluctant to tell her anything, not because he didn’t trust her, or doubted her commitment, but because he considered her too precious and delicate to engage directly in the fight.

“Why do you shut me out, Lucius? Do I not support the cause as much as anyone else? Bellatrix stands as at his left-hand side, his most trusted and valued supporter. Why am I kept to out of the way?”

Lucius sighed and soothed. “My dear, my darling wife. I must keep you safe. I have neither a son nor an heir. Your role is too pure and vital to place you at risk.”

“So, I am only good to breed? Is that it?”

“No, my darling. That is not what I mean. Simply that as pureblood wizards we are duty bound to continue the line. How could I ever replace you if I were to lose you?”

“And if I lost you? What would happen then, to your line?”

“I know. I know. If it must be one of us, let it be me who is lost. I should not wish to live on without you, my Cissy.”

He had a way of charming and convincing her. She allowed him to hold her and kiss her. Though soft and seemingly chaste, it was not without feeling or passion and she melted into him, raking her fingers into his hair, urging him for more.

“I cannot now, my love. I have work to do.”

“Can’t it wait, a little while. Come to bed with me Lucius, let us make an heir tonight.”

He wavered but ultimately pulled away.

“Please Lucius, it has been so long.”

“The Dark Lord will not wait.”

“Very well. Send my regards to my sister, who I see even less frequently than my husband.”

“You may see a little more of her.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She is still adored by the Dark Lord, a favourite I have no doubt, but it is Severus Snape who is his most trusted of followers.”

Narcissa swallowed and stiffened at the mention of his name. Guilt rose up and she pressed it down.

“Severus?”

“A surprise to me, I can’t deny it. Shy little Severus is quite the determined follower. He acts freely. He, more than any of us has the Dark Lord’s ear. I must say I am impressed with him. I never thought him that strong or passionate at school. Yet, he has bested us all. I must go, my love.”

He kissed her forehead with love and reverence, rushing from the room.

“Lucius when will you be back?” she called after him, but he was already gone. Narcissa was left alone in Malfoy Manor once more.

Days and weeks passed since she had last seen her husband. His protective nature kept her in the relative safety of the Manor. Her knowledge of events came from the sanitised and carefully worded reports in the _Daily Prophet_. Fear and worry swelled. She sent an owl but received no reply. At first, they were causal enquiries. Was he well? Insignificant details about the estate and its management.

She sent another. Still nothing. The third came with an urgent plea for a response of any kind.

Now she feared him dead. Pacing the floor in front of the fire for the tenth night in a row, she was disturbed by the sound of a man clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Severus,” she said as she turned with a rasping, dry throat.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. The gentleman insisted and pushed past into the house. He would not wait to be announced,” squeaked a nervous house elf, his head down, wringing his hands.

“It is fine. Leave us.”

The elf scurried away, relieved there was to be no unpleasant consequence for failing in his duty.

“Cissy,” Snape said in a low and wistful tone.

“Are you well? How long has it been?” There was a sharpness in her pitch, an awkwardness that prevented her from looking him in the eye.

“I forget. Time appears to move more quickly as I get older. Are you well?”

“Very.” Her smile was painted on and false. “I am a terrible hostess; would you care for a drink? Have you eaten? I can summon the house elf and bring you something.”

“No. Thank you.”

“Then at least sit, it’s cold outside. You must warm yourself. Are you quite certain you won’t at least have a drink? Humour me. Allow me to feel I am still capable of treating a guest properly. Do let me feel useful.”

Narcissa spoke quickly, her voice threatening to break as tears welled in her eyes.

“Cissy, stop. You are clearly neither well nor content.”

“I’m perfectly fine. Don’t be silly.”

“You are not.”

She stopped and finally allowed her gaze to find the dark hollows of his eyes that glinted back at her in the firelight.

“How is it that you know that?”

“I have seen and read your owls.”

“You have read them, and yet Lucius has not?”

“I believe he has.”

Narcissa gulped in air and inhaled hard. Her eyes squeezing tightly together as she absorbed what she had heard.

“Then he is unable to answer. Is he hurt? Wounded? Severus, I must know.”

“He is able to respond if he so chooses.”

Narcissa turned away again, leaning against the mantlepiece, starring down into the roaring flames.

“Then why does he not reply? Have I displeased him? Or the Dark Lord? Have I displeased him?”

Snape cleared his throat again, questioning whether the truth or a lie was the right thing to do.

“Is he engaged on some secret business, a mission, a task? Must he be silent?”

Snape searched her eyes and knew that Narcissa did not believe her own words.

“Cissy, there is a certain lifestyle attached to being within the inner circle.”

“Lifestyle? I have heard things. I did not wish them to be true.”

“Perhaps, they are, perhaps they are not. I cannot say.”

“Are there women?”

There was a difficult silence.

“The Dark Lord has many dedicated followers, witches and wizards.”

“Dedicated? Say what you really mean, Severus.” she scoffed.

“Willing.”

“And does this willingness extend to his most trusted of companions?”

“It does.”

“And do you indulge in it?”

Severus looked down awkwardly.

“At times.”

“And does my husband?”

Severus said nothing. He did not look at her as tears burst through and rolled freely but silently down her cheeks. Narcissa fought it but failed and was powerless to prevent the flood. Hurt mingled with anger. Venom and bitterness were barely concealed in her voice.

“He ignores me, leaves me here alone so he does not have to explain himself to me.” Anger surged as she tried not to picture him with a stream of other women. “I thought him dead. I worried. I lost sleep. I paced this floor at all hours of the day and night until I have virtually worn the through the carpet. It’s a beautiful rug. A wedding gift from my mother. How disappointed I would have been if I’d ruined it pining over him.”

Her forced smile returned, and she straightened herself up.

“I am sorry,” Severus said solemnly.

“Not so sorry as to conceal it from me.” Narcissa spat her words at him harshly, though he knew she was merely lashing out at him because there was no-one else there to direct her anger at. “Jealousy, perhaps. Is that it?”

“I felt on this occasion you deserved the truth.”

“Then thank you. Though I wonder on how many occasions you have had cause to lie to me?”

“At least one.”

Narcissa considered his admission for a moment. She wanted to press him to explain himself, but instead contented herself that he may concede he had lied to her, but he was not her husband.

“Liars and frauds. My life seems so full of them. Do you regret it?”

“Regret it?”

“Hmm, lying to me.”

“Greatly and often.”

“Then I forgive you for it.” She waited, deep in thought. Severus did not dare speak anymore.

“It’s funny, you know.”

“Funny?”

“Odd, not funny ha, ha. It is you who came. Not my husband, or my sister, but you, Severus. Of everyone who should have come, it was you, a man who has no obligation toward me, or reason to go out of their way. It was you who could not allow me to suffer and wonder any longer. It was you who felt the need to enlighten me about my husband’s transgressions. I have to question why. Why are you here, Severus?”

“Because I could not stay away any longer.”

She turned to him fully, concealing nothing. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest.

“Then don’t.”

He closed the space between them, and she fell willingly into his arms. Their mouths found each other, hungry and greedy, urgently and roughly kissing. Narcissa did not care about what Lucius had done in that moment. Instead she craved the comfort and love of another and allowed his embrace to consume her completely. Winding her fingers into her hair, Snape held her close, pressing his body into hers and she gave no resistance, pushing back inviting his tongue deep into her mouth. Barely breaking contact, they sunk to the floor and Severus made love to her there, in front of the fire on the precious carpet she had angrily wanted to preserve.

Sated, Severus rolled away from her. The quiet still punctuated by their short and heavy breath. Narcissa opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling above.

“Gods,” she gasped. “You have learned a great deal since the last time. Am I allowed to say I am impressed?”

“You are allowed to say anything you wish, Cissy.”

She reached out to him and eased herself onto her side, running her fingers over his chest then stroking his cheek tenderly. Severus remained still; his eyes still tightly closed.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

He squeezed his eyes together once more before slowly opening them. Narcissa smiled down at him, propped up on her elbow. Leaning down, her lips brushed his. He allowed it but made no move to return it.

“Cissy,”

“Shh, say nothing. Not now.”

“Perhaps I should not have come here.”

“But you did. And I am glad of it.”

Her fingers knotted into his. His hand at first felt limp, but his grip tightened as she spoke.

“I have no regrets. None. Not about this. It felt…right. It feels right, you and I have always felt right.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I think you know well enough what to do.” Narcissa chewed at her lip and smirked wickedly.

“What now though?”

“What do you want?” she rasped, low and husky, suggestion loaded in every word.

Severus sat up.

“Beyond the here and now, Narcissa. What is this?”

“I see it this way. If my husband can take a mistress, mistresses perhaps there are many. I do not know. Then why should I not? Why shouldn’t we indulge our urges? It seems only fair.”

Severus considered it and sighed.

“I should go, Narcissa.”

He went to rise to his feet, she snatched at his wrist. Something in her demeanour shifted and her true vulnerability was exposed.

“Stay. Please.”

He looked at her doubtfully.

“Don’t leave me, alone. I have been so alone. Lay with me, hold me. Please, Severus.”

He knew he should leave, but her glossy, pleading eyes weakened him.

“Just for tonight. Comfort me, as you always do.”

Severus was powerless to do anything else and settled back down onto the floor. She rested her head on his chest and he tenderly smoothed and stroked her hair.

“Is this so very wrong?” she questioned.

“It is.”

“What is good for the goose? It is, after all I who was wronged.”

“I suppose so. Though did you…and I not start it all, Narcissa? Were we not first to do wrong?”

“You mean all that time ago?”

“Then. Was that not the line being crossed?”

“you really imagine I was Lucius’ one and only? His childhood sweetheart and before we were married, he wasn’t out sowing his oats with any witch who would entertain him? I was never under any delusions that he did not have his fun first.”

“And yet you still chose to marry him?”

Narcissa was a little bemused. She was always surprised by the high romantic ideals Severus held.

“I did. I didn’t care. I had my fun, so did you come to think of it,” she smirked a little at the memory of the alley. “I thought that would be the end of it once we married. I should have known better, but yes I do see it differently now.”

“Is it so very different? I’m not certain I see one betrayal as lesser to another.”

“Severus, always the dreamer. It is very different. I am his wife now. We made vows to one another and now they are broken. As far as I see it, I am free of my obligation to remain faithful.”

“Then you will leave him and dissolve your marriage?”

It was Narcissa who sat bolt upright now. She looked at him as if he had proposed the most preposterous thing she had ever heard.

“And bring shame on us both? I will not. I have made my bed, often cold and empty as it is, and I will lie in it.”

“Do you wish me to leave?”

Narcissa flung her arms around him, as if she might keep him there and prevent him from leaving. She consciously hid her face, out of fear and shame.

“I do love him still. You understand that. You know I do, and I must. And I know and understand. Your heart does not belong to me and I am no fool. I know it never will.”

“You know that?”

“You told me so. It’s perfectly alright. There is no shame in it, but at least let us offer one another solace and warmth. We can at least give each other that, can’t we?”

In truth, Severus had not given Lily a single thought. Not once that night had he pictured her face, or longed for her, or mourned that she was lost to him. She came to him now. Resentment and bitterness towards James still lingered. He believed James Potter deserved her as little as Lucius deserved Cissy. Lily’s rejection had been so complete and final, but Narcissa was there, warm and alive, curled into him. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, her cheeks still flushed and her usually immaculate hair dishevelled and wild. She was beautiful. The acidic, ill-tempered and arrogant shell disguised a far more delicate flower. Lucius had injured her, but he did not believe the look in her eye was that of vengeance or anger. He saw lust and affection, and, in that moment, he wanted and craved it. Unsure what to do next, he made a last-ditch effort to be gallant and noble.

“I should not be here. I really should go.”

She made a silent plea. Her tongue running over her lips in a nervous act of seduction. He weakened and she saw it.

“Stay,” she whispered.

He nodded and allowed Narcissa to lead him up to bed by the hand.

A few days later, Lucius returned home.

“Wife, my wife, my beautiful Cissy! How I have missed you,” he announced jubilantly as he strode into the drawing room.

Narcissa snarled back, refusing to move from the armchair.

“I am surprised you can even manage to recall my name, Lucius, it has been so long.”

Lucius pouted and fell to his knees at her feet, taking her hand and kissing it with affectation and drama. Narcissa turned her head, a rejection borne out of anger at his actions and guilt at her own.

“Please, my darling. I have been reprimanded and reminded that I have neglected you and should not. Forgive me. I did not realise I had been such a terrible husband until it was pointed out to me, and for that I am truly sorry.”

_Not for you philandering and complete disregard for me then, not sorry for that._ Narcissa repressed her thoughts, though certain legilimency was not a skill Lucius possessed, Narcissa had a talent for guarding against it and could close her mind to even the most skilled and determined. Sometimes she wondered if she may be gifted enough to disguise her thoughts from the Dark Lord himself.

“Bellatrix should mind her own business,” she snapped back at him, assuming her sister must have finally chastised him for paying no attention to her. She could picture her vividly, her dark eyes narrowing as she launched into an uncontrolled tirade, her wand waving with threat and menace and a nervous and subdued Lucius conceding that she was, of course absolutely correct.

“It wasn’t your sister?”

“Really?”

Narcissa was intrigued.

“It was Severus.”

She fought to hold her confused mess of feelings within herself. Her body stiffened and Lucius pushed her knees apart and positioned himself there, looking up at her with want and expectation.

“I have missed you, Cissy.”

“I am tired.”

A hand snaked up, under her dress.

“Cissy,” he sighed.

The idea that Severus had sent him home to her confounded and hurt her. No longer sure who she should be loyal to, she suppressed anger, disappointment and uncertainty and did what a good wife should do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading  
What do you think?  
Vin x


End file.
